


The Sleep Diary

by Rose1991



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Diary/Journal, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen Work, Humor, One Shot, somnambulism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose1991/pseuds/Rose1991
Summary: "Ron: Harry talks in his sleep. Have you noticed?Hermione: No. Of course not."-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	The Sleep Diary

**The Sleep Diary**

Ron: Harry talks in his sleep. Have you notice?

Hermione: No. Of course not.

_September 1, 1998_

_Dear Hermione,_

_It’ll be easier to write this to you than to a diary. I know you enchanted it so we can write each other discreetly. Especially since you’re all the way in Australia looking for your parents, while Harry and I are back at Hogwarts. “Taking a Post-Grad Year,” is what McGonagall said. She was rather chipper about it too. Saying it’s something muggle schools instituted years ago so students can get extra classroom credits before graduating. As I’m writing this, I’m realizing this was probably your bloody idea, and if it was, how dare you._

_Anyway, the Aurors office has decreed anyone who fought in the battle last May will become an Auror upon graduation. Since Harry and I never graduated, we can’t become aurors yet. It’s bloody stupid._

_McGonagall has set up flats in Hogsmeade for any “Post-Grads” since the dorms themselves weren’t built to accommodate 8 th years. Surprisingly, we are not alone in the Gryffindor Flat. Dean is here, which is understandable, since he missed half last year being locked up. But so is Neville._

_Apparently he’s taking extra classes to become the next Herbology professor. There’s rumors going around that Professor Sprout is retiring in a year or two. Anyway, this year, he’s become a Student-Teacher. Apparently, that means while he takes higher level classes in herbology, he’s also teaching first years occasionally. This also means he’s looking over us for the year, which I find offensive. Bloody Neville!_

_Anyway, that’s not the point of this journal. The point of this journal is all last year, you never noticed Harry talks in his sleep, which is not only shocking, but kind of shameful for someone as clever as you. Since you are not with us for this year, I figured I’d write down some of the mental stuff Harry says, since this is our last year rooming together. I will note that sometimes he has nightmares and wakes up screaming for Cedric or crying for Dobby. I won’t note those nights. Just the fun, wonky ones._

_Like last night he said, “Ron. Fetch me my cape.”_

_To be honest, I didn’t know he had one. I also wouldn’t fetch one for him either._

_I miss you._

_-Ron_

* * *

_September 5, 1998_

_Hermione,_

_You will not believe who else is here taking a Post Grad year. Draco Malfoy! I can’t believe the mangy git can show his face around here! He’s a lot more somber and quieter than usual. But still. He said he had a change of planned profession, which means he has to take extra courses. He’s not in any of our classes, but Neville said he’s in one of his. Poor guy, that Neville._

_Also, the new Defense teacher is some Auror from America. Apparently, he came highly recommended from Ilvermorny as a frequent self-defense educator that they’d bring in for assemblies. I don’t know what that means. I think it’s something the Yanks do in their schools. His name Lance Graves, and he reminds me a little of Professor Lockhart, except if Lockhart actually did the things he wrote about, and wasn’t quite a celebrity. So, I guess nothing like Lockhart, except that he’s a bit cartoonish. He’s loud, and won’t stop saying we have to use, “Street smarts.”_

_I guess this journal is also good for those types of updates. But it will predominantly be mad shit Harry says in his sleep._

_I wish you were here._

_-Ron_

* * *

_September 12, 1998_

_“Where are the squirrel’s eggs, Ron!?”_

_It is a question that will haunt me, Hermione. For I honestly have no idea what a squirrel is doing with eggs. Hopefully baking a cake. Dammit, now I’m hungry._

* * *

_September 16, 1998,_

_Hermione,_

_It’s great to hear that you’ve narrowed down your parents’ location to the Sydney area. I don’t know how large the city is, but at least it’s something. If anyone can find them, it’s you._

_Harry’s upset that Ginny is the Gryffindor Quidditch captain this year, and she’s making us try-out for our positions again. Apparently, she doesn’t want people complaining of “nepotism.” I’m not sure what that means, but I don’t see how I could benefit from it at all. Those are tomorrow after classes._

_Oh, and the first Hogsmeade trip is this weekend, which means Ginny’s coming to see our flat. Harry also had the audacity to ask for me to leave for an hour or two when she comes over. I’m over Harry and Ginny dating, but do they have to be so obvious about it? Do they have no restraint? Last year, we weren’t snogging constantly. Definitely not enough to make Harry uncomfortable._

* * *

_September 20, 1998_

_Hermione,_

_You won’t believe what I just saw. Today’s the Hogsmeade trip, and while Harry, Ginny and I went to the pub, we saw the new Professor Graves, the new Defense teacher from America. He was actually wearing a cowboy hat, leather jacket, and cowboy boots. I shit you not. Talk about a walking cliché._

_He seems to have become friends with Hagrid, although passing their table, it seems it’s entirely based on a mutual appreciation of flying motorcycles. Graves said he’s waiting for his to clear MACUSA customs so it can be delivered. Apparently, they are rather strict about enchanted objects._

_Other than that, the trip was normal. I hung out with Dean while Harry took Ginny back to the flat for some alone time. I’m trying hard not to think about it._

* * *

_September 23, 1998_

_I’m guessing since you never noticed Harry talking in his sleep, you also never noticed me conversing with him. Well, last night was one of those nights._

_Harry: The bears, Ron. They have guns!_

_Me: Well, we have wands. We can take them!_

_Harry: No. Too smart. They got a forcefield. Our spells are useless._

_Me: What do you suggest we do?_

_Harry: Hermione. She can talk to bears. She can get their terms._

_Are you some secret bear-whisperer I don’t know about?_

* * *

_October 4, 1998_

_Today was the first Quidditch game. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Of course it was a bloodbath of a match. Ginny broke her foot. Harry was furious. We found her at the infirmary once we won. And you won’t believe who was helping Madam Pomphrey with the game’s injuries. Fucking Malfoy! We found him pointing his wand at Ginny’s foot, and I might have over-reacted._

_I punched him in the face, and told him not to lay another hand on my sister. Harry had to pull me off him as Ginny said he’d just healed her foot. He had a bloody nose, and he cursed me out as he tried to staunch the bleeding. And Madam Pomphrey almost had my head, screeching at me Malfoy was doing exactly what she’d asked. Apparently he’s trying to be a doctor now, learning anatomy, first aid for magical maladies, and advanced medicine under Madam Pomphrey. This explains why he’s taking those advanced herbology classes with Neville._

_Anyway, Madam Pomphrey took fifty points from both Harry and I, and Malfoy went back to checking Ginny’s foot. “Making sure his charm was successful,” he said. He then told her to be easy on it for a few days before moving onto a second year Slytherin who was laid out with a puking curse._

_I don’t trust it. His whole life he’s been a prick, and now he’s got a bleeding heart? It doesn’t make sense. Harry says he thinks Malfoy’s changed, but no one changes that much._

* * *

_October 11, 1998_

_“Fucking move. You’re everywhere!”_

_Harry sounded very exasperated. I have no idea who he was talking to, though._

* * *

_October 14, 1998_

_I’m terrified._

_Harry just sat up looking at me directly before letting out a stream of unintelligible gibberish, then flopping back down. He was very direct and serious about whatever he said. But it wasn’t English. It also wasn’t that snake language he used to sometimes speak._

* * *

_October 19, 1998_

_Another Hogsmeade trip today. Harry wanted his space with Ginny again, so I being a good best friend over being the older brother, have walked out. Dean has apparated home for his mother’s birthday. And Neville has disappeared._

_So, I just let my feet take me where they would, and I wound up at the Shrieking Shack. Do you remember coming here in 3 rd year, daring each other to get a closer look._

_We were such chickens._

_Days like today, I miss you the most._

* * *

_October 19, 1998_

_Ok, not five minutes after I finished writing the last entry, guess who showed up._

_Malfoy._

_He said he wanted to apologize for the past seven years. Bollocks. I told him he could pretend to everyone else, but I wasn’t bloody buying it. I read the statement his father released about “being under the imperius curse,” a little while ago just to get out of going back to Azkaban._

_I know Harry pities him, but personally, I think Malfoy deserves to be locked up too._

_He fucking chose to be a death eater._

_He also asked if you were alright. He sounded a little worried, but I know better. I told him to piss off._

* * *

_October 23, 1998_

_I know you think I should give Malfoy a break, but I don’t agree that we should just trust him._

_Harry keeps reminding me that Malfoy did a lot for us last year, like not identifying us to his crazy aunt when he knew it was us. You both are acting like I don’t know all this._

_I do._

_I was there. He also didn’t step in when they carved “mudblood” on your arm._

_Nor did he stand up for the inhumane punishments last year due to the Castors. Ginny still has nightmares from it._

_A few good things does not make up for all the evil he’s done._

* * *

_October 26, 1998_

_“Dammit. Blueberries, not grapefruit!”_

_I don’t know who would mix those two things up._

* * *

_October 30, 1998_

_It is a shame you are not with us right now. You would have loved the class we just left._

_Professor Graves is mental. I’m going to say that right now._

_The whole Defense class today was about how to defend when you lose your wand. We walked into class with all of our desks gone, and a boxing ring set up in the middle with him standing in it dressed to scrap. He then asks the class, “How many of you have lost your wand in a fight? Expelliarmus was used. Maybe the spell misfired. Anyone?”_

_Everyone rose their hand, because of course they had. Expelliarmus was how Harry got Voldemort!_

_Graves then proceeds to teach us some Chinese technique he’s learned along his travels called Bending. He explained it was a wizard’s form of tai-jutsu to perform when you’re without a wand to change the duel. Most just affect the air between the two wizards, either pushing them back or pulling them in._

_Harry and I are terrible at it. Surprisingly, Colin Creevey is not bad at it. Apparently, he did something called Tae Kwon Do in the muggle world before coming to Hogwarts, and the moves are similar._

_I have a feeling you would have eaten that lesson up._

* * *

_November 3, 1998_

_We are screwed._

_Ginny was caught sneaking back to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade under the humped witch statue. This was late at night._

_Both she and Harry are in a lot of trouble, and in detention for a few days. Not to mention they each lost us a hundred points. That’s two hundred, total. That means we are a hundred fifty points behind Slytherin who is now in third. Hufflepuff is ahead by a thousand. I don’t think we are remotely winning the house cup. At this rate._

_I’ve told Harry McGonagall isn’t going to give us miracle scores for saving the school like Dumbledore did. There’s no more dark lord. And when was the last time McGonagall played favorites?_

_I really need you here to keep them in line. I get no respect from those two._

* * *

_November 7, 1998_

_“I said make me a burrito!”_

_I hope he’s not talking to Ginny like that._

* * *

_November 10, 1998_

_“Mmm. Ginny. But what if he hears us?”_

_I promptly moved to the sofa in the lounge to sleep. Sadly, I know he’s talking to Ginny like that. I wish I didn’t._

* * *

_November 15, 1998_

_Neville’s in trouble. As a Student-Teacher, he is allowed to add or deduct points from the student body. This also means he’s not allowed to fraternize with anyone in the student body._

_Well, he was just found leaving the Room of Requirement with Luna Lovegood between classes. Alone._

_I didn’t even know they were dating. But according to Dean, it’s been going on since last year._

_Anyway, his status as Student-Teacher had been put up to a hearing. McGonagall has created a special council comprised of a 7 th year and a Post-Grad, Professor Sprout, and the new standing head of Gryffindor house (and you won’t believe who it is) Professor Graves._

_I thought McGonagall was still the head of Gryffindor, but apparently as Head Mistress, she can’t be. The new Transfiguration professor was apparently a Hufflepuff, and therefore can’t be its head. And with Neville apparently becoming the new Herbology professor, McGonagall was also training him to be the new head of Gryffindor, with the Transfiguration teacher becoming the head of Hufflepuff when Sprout leaves._

_It’s a mess._

* * *

_November 16, 1998_

_I just realized the only Post-Grad allowed on Neville’s council is Malfoy._

_Apparently, Dean, Harry and I are considered his friends, which would be construed as biased._

_Neville’s fucked._

* * *

_November 16, 1998_

_Forgot to add last night’s gem._

_“It’s simple. We get the otters to stack the cups.”_

_Sounds like a plan, Harry. I don’t think it will save Neville, though._

* * *

_November 18, 1998_

_I don’t know what went on in that room. Neville is still a student-teacher. Only, he’s not allowed to affect house points anymore until he’s a full teacher._

_Something happened in that room. I saw Neville talking to Malfoy before coming into the Dining Hall with the rest of the council. Apparently the 7 th year was Melinda Moon, little sister to Marcus Moon in our year. She’s a Hufflepuff, so I don’t know if you know her._

_Anyway, all seems to be well now. Except I still think Malfoy’s trying to pull something. Harry keeps telling me to let it go. It feels like Sixth year all over again, except reversed._

* * *

_November 24, 1998_

_I don’t want to alarm you, but I fell off my broom in practice today. It was stupid. Jimmy Peaks is the second-string keeper, and during our scrimmage bought today, he would not stop egging me on. He kept pulling these flashy moves, saying I was only first-string because my sister is the captain, which we all know is bollocks._

_He dared me to do a move, using the broom as a bar to swing down and kick a ball away. I tried it, but my fingers slipped, and I fell to the ground._

_Again, before you panic, I am writing you, so I am fine._

_I landed on my leg, and Pomphrey said the femur shattered. It was excruciating, and I don’t even remember Harry and Ginny running me to the infirmary. Hell, I don’t even remember landing._

_Pomphrey apparently directed Malfoy to remove the bone completely, and make sure the artery wasn’t hit or the impact didn’t cause an embolism. I don’t know what that last one was, but it didn’t sound good._

_Anyway, they made sure I was out of immediate danger. Since I didn’t have a femur anymore, Madam Pomphrey had to give me some of that bone-gro stuff. You remember when Harry had to regrow his forearm bones? Yeah, that stuff. It is revolting. Polyjuice is nothing compared to that._

_So, I’ll be in here a week, drinking that tripe daily, because femurs are the largest bone in the body apparently, and they take a lot longer to grow._

_I can handle it. Harry has promised to get me my schoolwork so I don’t fall behind._

_I’m only dreading that I’ll be stuck here a week with Malfoy._

* * *

_November 25, 1998_

_~~The worst has happened.~~ _

_~~I’m not even sure I can put it to words how bad it is. It was traumatizing, and I will never be able to live without shame again.~~ _

_~~Malfoy had to hold me while I took a shit.~~ _

Immediately, I scratched it all out. I could not tell her this. It was Earth shattering. Soul crushing.

“Can’t figure out what to tell your girlfriend?” Malfoy remarked snidely across the room as he read a textbook.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” I snapped back.

He scoffed, and returned to his textbook.

I returned to my diary.

_Don’t worry about me. Everything is fine._

* * *

_November 28, 1998_

_I’m sorry my response has been limited. I’ve been stuck with the git, Malfoy. It’s been surprisingly uneventful._

_I’m glad to hear that you’ve found your parents. Be careful with returning their memories. You don’t want to Lockhart them. I’m sure if anyone can pull it off, it’s you. But, just be careful._

* * *

_November 30, 1998_

_This whole experience has made me realize Malfoy isn’t as evil as … He’s still a git, but he’s not as evil as I thought. He’s trying, stating he’s trying to follow his mother’s footsteps now rather than his father’s. Since Mrs. Malfoy saved Harry in the woods, I’ll admit, it’s a step in the right direction. It explains why he didn’t condemn Neville._

_I’m being released today, and my sentence in Malfoy’s hell is up. I’ll write more sleepy musings from our chosen one. I’m sure I’ve missed a few being stuck here re-growing my femur._

* * *

_December 1, 1998_

_Harry did not disappoint._

_“Put a pie in the trap. That’s the best bait.”_

* * *

_December 3, 1998_

_“You better not tell Ron you speak to spiders.”_

_Who is he talking to? Hagrid? I think it’s Hagrid._

* * *

_December 7, 1998_

_Someone notify Godric Gryffindor. Harry roars in his sleep. His exact words were, “I’m a lion. ROAR!”_

* * *

_December 11, 1998_

_We’ll be leaving tomorrow for Christmas break. I’m hoping we’ll see you, soon, but I understand wanting to wait until your parents are able to return with you._

_Last night, Harry said, “I’ll deal with the monkeys tomorrow.”_

* * *

_December 17, 1998_

_I miss you. Harry hasn’t slept in my room since we’ve gone home. It’s crazy. My parents are looking at Harry and Ginny as if they’re already married. Probably because he’s already asked for their blessing, has shown them the ring. He’s planning on proposing on Christmas._

_You should be here for this._

* * *

_December 21, 1998_

_It’s been several days since I heard from you. I’m starting to worry. Please send me an update. I miss you._

* * *

_December 24, 1998_

_It’s Christmas Eve. I’m fairly certain we’ll miss you for Christmas. I_

“RON!” Mum called, interrupting my train of thought. I paused my quill over the diary page, hoping she wasn’t calling me down already. Dinner was supposed to be ready in a bit, but I wanted to finish this entry for Hermione before I went to eat.

It had been almost six months since I’d seen Hermione. Every entry went to Hermione’s corresponding diary. What would happen if she saw I’d started an entry, but stopped in the middle for hours? Would she think we were attacked? Would she think something tragic had happened?

“RON! I need you to set the table!” Mum called again.

I huffed, putting my quill in my ink. I took a last look at the entry, and saw my quill had dropped a splatter of ink. I sighed, closing the notebook and dropping it unceremoniously on the bed before making my way downstairs.

I mostly looked at my feet as I trudged downstairs. Harry was with Ginny outside. Charlie had arrived sometime at lunch. George had arrived from London with Percy. Bill and Fleur were coming tomorrow. I could hear Mum bustling around the kitchen, with Dad helping a little. Probably more bothering than helping. I heard Mum scold Dad for stealing some turkey skin, then again for stealing some stuffing.

“What do you need, Mum?” I asked, hands in my pockets as I made my way to the kitchen. I sounded a little glum, but it was understandable. I was missing Hermione.

“Ron,” I heard. It wasn’t my Mum, but another softer voice. A voice I thought I wouldn’t hear for a long time. I looked up, my blue eyes finding the familiar chocolatey eyes of my old friend. My love. My Hermione. Her honey kissed hair was as wild and lovely as it was in the summer.

She smiled brightly at me, and I felt a surge in my heart. Immediately, I ran to her, and pulled her into my arms. I felt her chuckle against me, sounding like chimes in my ears. “Did you miss me?”

“I’m never letting go of you again,” I breathed, squeezing her in my arms.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and whispered, “Happy Christmas, Ron.”

It certainly was.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I meant to have this out at Christmas because of the ending. But when I finished this in October, little did I know I was about to embark on a massive 700 mile move over the Thanksgiving and Christmas Season. I started writing this shortly after my husband was notified he would be losing his job due to Covid, and I wanted something cheery to escape to, because we also knew nothing in his career line was available where we lived and it seemed a bit hopeless at the time. We were incredibly lucky for him to find a new job, even if it is so far away from what we've known, however we do have friends where we're going so we won't be so alone. But it's also added a lot of stress to the already stressful holiday season. I haven't been able to write much of anything because I've been so busy.
> 
> So, I hope everyone had happy holidays. And here's to hoping 2021 will be better that the last year.


End file.
